


Kanima Venom

by mindless_indulgence



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Time, Kanima Jackson Whittemore, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:17:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindless_indulgence/pseuds/mindless_indulgence
Summary: Paralyzed by the Kanima venom, Derek can't do anything about being rolled on top of Stiles by Matt to mock them and Scott. When they're alone, waiting for the effects to fade, things start to happen.





	Kanima Venom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MRei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MRei/gifts).



Matt: “This is the one controlling him? This kid? Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf.  
Oh, yeah, that's right.  
I've learned a few things lately.  
Werewolves, hunters, Kanimas.  
It's like a frickin' Halloween party every full moon.  
Except for you, Stiles.  
What do you turn into?” 

Stiles: “Abominable snowman.  
But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal.”

Matt nods at Jackson, Jackson poisons Stiles within a heartbeat.

Stiles: “Hey! You bitch!”

Derek:[GRUNTS] “Get him off of me.”

Matt: “Oh, I don't know, Derek.  
I think you two make a pretty good pair.  
It must kinda suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck.  
I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless.”

Derek: “Still got some teeth.  
Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am.”

Stiles: “Yeah, bitch.”

[VEHlCLE APPROACHES] 

Matt: “Is that her? Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her.  
I won't even let Jackson near her.”

Stiles: “Scott, don't trust him!” 

Matt nods at Jackson, who kicks at Derek so he is lying on top of Stiles.

Stiles:[GAGS] “Ugh!”

Matt: “This work better for you?” 

Scott: “Hey, just stop! Stop!” 

Matt: “Then do what I tell you to.”

Scott: [EXHALES] “Okay. All right.”

Matt, Scott and Jackson leave.

Stiles and Derek are lying on the floor.

Stiles: “Hey.[SIGHS] All right, so what do we do? Do we just sit here and wait to die? Because, no offense man, but you weigh a frickin’ ton!”

Derek: “Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body faster.  
Like triggering the healing process.”  
[TRIES TO GET OUT HIS CLAWS BUT FAILS]

Stiles: “What? Oh, what are you doing?”

Derek: “I am trying to inflict pain. But it’s not working.”

Stiles tries to take a deep breath, but it is nearly impossible with a 200-pound werewolf on top of you.

Derek: “What was that?”

Stiles: “What?”

Derek: “Your fingers twitched.”

Stiles: “Well I am sorry, but I am not capable of controlling all of my physical motions while I am NOT paralyzed by Kanima Venom, so EXCUSE me for being a bit twitchy right now!”

Even if he can’t actually see it, Stiles can _feel_ Derek rolling his eyes.

Derek: “My point was, _I_ cannot twitch my fingers. Since the Kanima poisoned me first, maybe you got a smaller dose.”

Stiles tries to move, but it seems like he has no conscious control over his body.

Stiles: “I can’t move! Maybe I _could_ , without your heavy wolf-ass above me!”

Derek: “I am not responsible for this situation, and you can believe me, I’m not enjoying it either!”

A few minutes pass. 

Derek: “I can’t hear them anymore.”

Stiles: “Scott will figure it out. He always does. Don’t worry, all the interesting action is happening right now, and all we get out of this night is an embarrassing memory.” 

He’s squirming around, unconsciously. 

Derek: “Stop it!”

Stiles: “What? I am literally not capable of doing anything!”

Derek: “You’re … squirming. And I can practically _taste_ your anxiety, so calm down!”

Stiles: “Let’s take it as a sign this stupid venom is starting to wear off and we’ll get out of this situation soon! And if you know a way to switch of anxiety, I’d be most grateful to hear about it!”

Derek’s face is turned to the side so they’re facing each other. So far they managed to avoid starring into each other’s eyes, but something in Derek’s voice made Stiles seek contact.

Derek seems a bit bothered, his face a hint rosier than usual.

When their eyes meet, Stiles feels incapable of looking away.  
Okay, he has been this close to Derek before, usually in different states of threat. _This_ time, Derek isn’t the threat. He is, he’s just a guy, as helpless as himself, and in very close proximity. 

Stiles body moves again.

It’s like a shudder, unwilling, like when someone’s walking over your grave.

He can _feel_ Derek’s uncomfortableness. 

Derek: “Maybe you can save your energy till you’re able to push me off.”

Stiles: “Thanks for the confidence, dude, but I’m not sure if I’d be able to do that under normal circumstances!”

Derek breaks the eye contact.

Derek: “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a strong kid. Surely way stronger than the most who’d be confronted with all this … werewolf stuff.”

Stiles: “Considering that everyone, aside from Scott, in this mess is some kind of psycho lunatic, I’m gonna to agree with you.”

After a longer pause, he adds

“And, uhm, thank you. That almost felt like a compliment. Which I really appreciate, you know. Considering from who it’s coming.”

Derek peeks over at him, seeing Stiles blushing. Stiles is pale, he blushes easily. And god, he is oozing nervous excitement. Derek has a hard time not letting it get to him.

Stiles: “I bet you’ve been all beefy and sculptured at my age. Being a werewolf by birth and all.”

Derek swallows a smile. He trained himself to hide emotions a long time ago, but somehow, it’s more difficult around this hyperactive spaz. 

Derek: [CLEARS THROAT] “Uhm, no, actually. I was about your size, and all knobby joints and limbs, not really grown into my body, you know … puberty is stressful enough without all these additional werewolf stuff on top of it, you know.”

He realizes he’s babbling, and quickly shuts his mouth.

But, it’s Stiles. It is not possible to be awkward around Stiles. It’s like he is hogging all the awkward available around.

And now he is smiling.

Stiles is adorable when he smiles, Derek notices.

Stiles: “Yeah, you know, your uncle offered me ‘the bite’ [STILES ACTUALLY MANAGES TO PRONOUNCE THE AIRQUOTES], but I refused. Already enough on my plate, you know. Jackson turned into a Kamina, I really don’t wanna find out what kind of abomination I’d turn into.”

Derek chuckles.

Derek: “Snowman, maybe?”  
Their eyes meet again.  
Stiles: “Ha, yeah. Came to my mind somehow. Sick bastard!”

He swallows.

“Matt, of course. Not you!”

This time, Stiles squirms enough to notice it too.  
His body, unpredictable at its best, twitches, with nowhere to go but closer to Derek.  
And he is warm.  
So warm.

Stiles: “Not really what I’ve expected. About you, you know. I know people evolve after high school, but it’s hard to picture you different than this superior werewolf-hunk. Like, having all this teenager issues with acne, hormones and unreturned affection. And I’m gonna shut up now.”

Derek chuckles again. He just can’t help it.

Derek: “I had my fair share of all of this, and then some. And, not sure if it’s any consolation, it won’t get any easier. You’ll just learn to hide it better. Well, except for the acne, maybe.”

They both laugh a bit over this.

After, it’s avoiding eye-contact and awkwardness all over again.

Stiles moves a bit again, this time with more purpose and strength.

Derek: “This is good, you’re recovering fast.”

Stiles: “Well, no, because I can’t see myself throwing you off anytime soon. This is mostly the excitement about having another person so close to me for the first time.”

Derek looks at him again. When he understands, his pupils widen.

Derek: “Oh.”

Stiles: “Yeah, sorry, too much information, I know. I just can’t seem to shut up when I’m nervous, or excited, or in general, and it really doesn’t help with girls, so I’m kinda trapped inside of a vicious circle of jabber and virginity, and being forced by a vengeful psychopath to dry-hump you seem to be the only way for me to get some.”

Derek swallows, and Stiles can’t bring himself not to stare at the movement of his throat. It’s doing weird things to him, like seeing Lydia wearing this really short skirt with overknee boots – 

Derek: “Stiles? I am very sorry that this- [DEREK CLOSES HIS EYES AND GATHERS ALL HIS WILLPOWER] _this_ is happening under such dire circumstances to you, and, uhm, with me of all people, but could you _please_ try not to wiggle around so much?!”

But Stiles being Stiles, when you tell him _not_ to do something, and having a warm, surprisingly good smelling body on top of him…

Stiles: “God, dude, I am so sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

Derek answer is softer than he’d ever expected.

“It’s okay. There is nothing wrong with you. You can believe me.”

Stiles moves again, and _this_ time, he can feel Derek getting hard against him too. But aside of rolling his body and especially hips into Derek’s body, he doesn’t seem to be capable of doing anything else.

And then, to his own embarrassment, a groan escapes his throat. He quickly turns his head away from Derek. Derek takes a deep breath.

Derek: “’S okay. Really.”

And Derek, adrenaline running high already, Stiles’ hormones creeping their way through his lungs into his blood, loses his carefully trained self-control and presses his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing him in.

Stiles:[GASPING] “This really doesn’t help me pulling myself together.”

All Derek manages to respond is a grunt, which is enough consent for Stiles, and bucks up against him, this time with conscious force.

It takes incredible strength from Stile to shift enough to get a better angle, but once he can feel Derek’s cock against his own, impossibly hard and hot even through 2 pairs of jeans, and it is so, _so_ good!  
Stiles can’t do anything more than shallowly thrust up against Derek, and it’s not nearly enough.  
Arousal and shame seem to fuel both of them, and at some point, Stiles can feel Derek grind back against him.

Stiles isn’t sure if it’s werewolf superiority or bravery that make Derek able to move his face closer to him, but their lips meet, not close enough for a passionate kiss, but for a sweet encounter of their lips, all shyness and fear of rejection.

When none appears, there are cautious tongues, too, sneaking hesitantly towards each other.

Once they meet, though, it’s like a spark lighting up a stick of dynamite.

Sucking, biting, tasting, they explore each other’s mouth, the sweet taste of another person’s saliva and flesh, the first time for Stiles, and way too long ago for Derek.

When Derek starts to lick on Stiles’ neck, incapable of resisting his pale, perfect, untainted skin, a frustrated groan escapes Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles: “I can’t fucking believe this!!”

Derek:[STOPS IMMEDIATELY] “Is this – too much?”

Stiles’ heart breaks a bit from the apologetic tone in Derek’s voice.

Stiles: “NO! No, it’s really not even remotely enough, and I – I just want – I _need_ -“

He exhales, frustrated and overwhelmed. But Derek, relieved that Stiles doesn’t reject him, dives in again, carefully nipping at Stiles’ throat, running his lips over the tender skin, and when he hears these irresistible little gasps again, he pushes his groin down as hard as he can, teeth grazing over Stiles’ lower lip, and Stiles –  
Stiles tenses and sobs, closes his eyes shut, and, whimpering, shudders up against Derek’s body.

 

[PAUSE]  
Derek: “Did – did you just come in your pants?”

Stiles doesn’t open his eyes, but gives a little nod.  
Derek: “Hey, look at me.”

The soft tone convinces Stiles to do as Derek says.  
When their eyes meet, he sees something in Derek’s eyes he can’t name.

Derek: “It’s okay. Really. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

Hesitantly, he learns forward, as if he intends to kiss him again.

[DOOR OPENS]

Scott: “I am so, SO sorry guys, you won’t _believe_ what happened!”

Scott’s recap of the events outside of this room go past Stiles in a blur. He notices Derek trying to catch his eyes a few times, but feels incapable of looking back.

 

The following night, Stiles is lying in his bed, incapable of getting to sleep.  
Shame, embarrassment, excitement and burning, desperate arousal take turns in keeping him awake.

He tried to relief himself countless times by now, but every time he touches himself, Derek’s stupid, gorgeous face appears in front of his eyes, and it confuses the shit out of him.  
Stiles grabs his pillow and screams into it until how lungs give out.

A clicking noise makes him sit up. When he looks at the window, he sees Derek sitting there. 

[STILES STARTLES RIGHT OFF HIS BED]

Stiles: “Dude what are you doing there?”

[DEREK TAPS AT THE WINDOW AGAIN]

Stiles: “Uhm, okay fine.”

[STILES OPENS THE WINDOW. DEREK JUMPS INTO HIS ROOM]

[AWKWARD PAUSE]

Stiles: “So, uhm, what are you doing here? In my bedroom? In the middle of the night?”

Derek: “Do you always talk so much?”

Stiles: “Have you met me?”

Derek: “Yes, up close.”

[ANOTHER AWKWARD PAUSE]

Derek: “This was a mistake. I should go.”

[DEREK TURNS TO THE WINDOW. STILES LAUNCHES FORWARD AND GRABS HIS ARM]

Stiles: “Don’t go! [LOOKS AT HIS HAND] Uhm, I’m gonna take my hand –“

 

Derek: [GRABS HIS HAND] “’S okay. Really.”

Stiles: [PAUSES] “Why did you come?”

Derek: “Because I know how you’re feeling. I know it is – unpleasant. And I am sorry that it’s my fault.”

Stiles: “It is not your – wait how can you know how I’m feeling?”

Derek: “Because I feel it too.”

Stiles: “You – you mean that figuratively, right?”

 

Derek: [SHAKES HIS HEAD] “I know it because I feel it too.”

Stiles: “So … we are feeling the same feelings? How can that be? Wait, are you feeling my feelings?!? Oh boy, you are not to be envied.”

Derek: [SHAKES HIS HEAD] ”No, I am feeling the same. And because of that, I know how you feel. It’s a wolf thing. Complicated. Hard to explain.”

Stiles: “Wait, are you – holy shit, you are embarrassed. I didn’t think you were capable of that feeling.”

Derek: [SHOUTS] “I thought it was a myth! A fairy tale! I surely never expected it to happen to _me_ , after what I have done!”

Stiles: “What?”

Derek: “WHAT?”

Stiles: “Even though I have a thousand other questions, _what_ did you think was a fairy tale?”

Derek: [CLOSES HIS EYES] “This.”

Derek launches forward and captures Stiles’ lips with his own. And Stiles – Stiles can _feel it_.  
Anger and confusion, fear and desire. He _knows_ these aren’t his feelings, but Derek’s, even though he feels a large portion of confusion, fear and desire himself. For the time their lips are connected, he can sense Derek’s feelings, and it is overwhelming.  
Stiles wants more of it.

Derek breaks away from him.

Derek: “It’s called a _solidare_. Someone to complete you. A soulmate. A person you’re so deeply connected to, that you feel the same. I have never heard of anyone _actually _finding theirs. And I surely never expected to find my own, let alone with someone like YOU!”__

[PAUSE]

Stiles: “Wow. Just, wow. I thought I have heard all the insult there are from Lydia, but you actually beat that! I know that I am no werewolf, or a hot girl, or hot, or what you’d call classically handsome, but – “

Within a heartbeat, he finds himself pinned to the wall by a very strong, very pissed werewolf.  
Derek: “Don’t – don’t talk yourself down like that. That’s not what I meant. [CLOSES HIS EYES] I was talking about someone so, so innocent. Pure. Untainted. I don’t deserve that.”

Stiles swallows, and, for the first time, like, _ever_ , he feels speechless.

Stiles: “Why?”

Derek: “What?”

Stiles: “Why don’t you deserve – whatever? I mean I get the innocent part, not the pure and untainted though, but while you’re scary and grumpy at times, and by that, I mean all of the times, I know, I can FEEL, that you are a good person. And I have no idea what you did to load up all the weight of the world on your shoulders, but _I_ can feel that you do deserve something good in your life -”

Whatever it was Stiles intended to say after that, it is interrupted by Derek licking, actually _licking_ up his jaw and cheek.

Stiles had no idea that could be something erotic, or erotic at all, or the most erotic thing that had happened to him so far, but it breaks up his rambling instantly, and throws all his insecurities and confusions and fears into the backseat while his hormones are taking the wheel, howling and flooring the gas pedal. 

He paws at Derek, trying to make as much body contact as possible, tearing at his clothes and frantically kissing him.

Stiles had no idea actual desire would feel that way.

Like **rabid, desperate hunger**

Derek, not limited by average borders, actual tears his shirt and pants away while wrestling off his own leather jacket and jeans. 

When they make actual skin contact, for the first time, Stiles is so relieved he wants to cry. And hard on the verge of painful.

Derek tosses him onto his mattress, climbing onto his with desperate greed in his eyes.

They flash a bright golden light for a split second.

Stiles and Derek grab each other, pulling the other one as close as they can, and every cell that contacts is sending a spark like fireworks through their veins.  
Sweat, feeling both boiling hot and freezing at the same time, is covering their bodies.  
The tiny part of Stiles that is still capable of forming thoughts [because Stiles had to be dead, cremated and buried for over a year until his mind would even start shutting down] wonders if having sex always feels that way.  
And holy shit, his pupils dilate as he rakes his eyes over Derek's naked perfection, from his chiseled chest and stomach [which he's seen before plenty] down to his seriously impressive cock, and probably some very strong legs too, but the dick-thing is kinda hogging his attention right now.

The part of Derek that isn’t completely overwhelmed by this encounter is cranky that sex _had_ never felt like that before, and they didn’t even got to the sex part yet! This triggers another little memory in his mind. And he pulls away. 

Derek: “You – you never did that before, right? With anyone? Like, uhm, at least a girl?” 

Stiles: “You licked me. What do you think?”  
Derek whimpers, with his whole body, and Stiles can taste the painful restraint that Derek is struggling with. 

Stiles: “’S okay. Really. I **want** it as much as you do. And no, I have never done this with another person before, but I am sure, like I have never been sure before, that I want to do it with you.” 

Taking a deep breath, Derek finally nods, with closed eyes as they would reveal too much of him. Derek: “You tell me when I hurt you. Make you uncomfortable. When you want me to stop.” 

It is not a request, it is a command.  
Stiles can only nod. 

Tenderly, Derek continues kissing him. His hands, large and rough and gentle, start caressing Stiles, all over his too-skinny chest, trembling arms, goose bumped legs.  
When they get closer to his groin, Stiles is so relieved he sobs. 

Derek: “Is this –“ 

Stiles: [GASPING] “Don’t you dare to stop! Just because I have no idea _why_ you could want to do this with me doesn’t mean I want you to stop doing it!” 

When Derek reaches for his aching erection, Stiles actually howls.  
Derek strokes him a few times, while rubbing his own dick against his hips.  
Just when Stiles relaxes enough to get into the rhythm, Derek stops again. 

Derek: “Do you have something to, uhm, help?” 

Stiles stares at Derek with such a profound confusion that Derek barely could hold back a chuckle.  
Derek: “Like lube?” 

Stiles needs a few seconds to process the question, but then shakes his head. 

Stiles: “Sorry, all I have is this extra-large condom from a very depressing and tragic story I am going to spare you with and OHMYGAWD!!”  
Stiles comes to an instant halt in his speech when Derek, who must have scooted down at some point, takes his cock into his mouth and starts sucking. 

Helplessly, he throws his arms around, finally settling his hands in Derek’s hair while the sheer awesomeness of this brand-new feeling sweeps through his mind like a tsunami.  
Somewhen in between, Derek has moved his hand under Stiles' ass, and his rough, gentle fingers start caressing his hole tenderly. 

Stiles: “Uh, Derek, what are you doing there?”  
Derek: [LOOKS UP]” Do you really need me to explain it to you?”  
Stiles: “Well, no, but I have to tell you if you keep it up very soon I will – ah, _aaaaahh_ ” 

Stiles convulses so hard it actually takes him off the mattress, groaning and panting while he empties himself into Derek’s mouth.  
When he opens his eyes again, he just sees Derek’s hand moving away from his mouth. 

Stiles: “Wow! That was, wow. Just wow.” 

Derek: “I am glad you enjoyed it. Do you, uhm, do you want to – we don’t have to…“ 

But as he speaks, he kisses his way up from Stiles’ hip over his stomach and chest, on a sinful trail over his throat back to his mouth, the one place where he feels like he belongs.  
Derek: “If you need me to stop, you have to tell me. Because I can’t hold myself back. You smell too good. You feel too good. You taste too good!” 

Growling, with every ounce of self-restrain he can scrape together, Derek pulls away one last time. 

Derek: “Do you _want_ me to stop?” 

Trembling with desire and anxious need, Stiles whispers  
“Please don’t let go”  


Stiles can feel Derek's fingers on him again, this time wetter, slicker, warmer, and Stiles realizes he is using his own cum to open him up.  
The thought is sending prickling shivers over his spine, but Derek is sucking on his neck, and all embarrassment is flying out the window. When he feels Derek's impossible smooth, hot cock brushes over his hole, Stiles is strangely unscared. On an intellectual level, he knows this is going to hurt. Especially considering Derek's size. But if it wouldn't hurt, if it would be easy, it wouldn't be truly special. Stiles takes a deep breath and, as carefully and tender as he can, a trembling Derek starts to push inside him. And _god_ it is good, it is bliss, and yes, it is more than a bit painful for both of them, but it feels like a small price to pay for such pleasure. The intrusion is unfamiliar to Stiles, but Derek’s impossible heat inside him dulls the pain, and after a few seconds of burning ache, he realxes enough to really, truly enjoy the feeling. 

For Derek, the feeling of Stiles’ silky sweet body gives him a completeness he never expected to feel. Thrusting into his tight heat is perfect, nothing could ever match it, and Derek never ever wants to stop.  
He throws his head back when he's all the way inside, hissing with pleasure and biting his already blood-heavy lip. 

Stiles: [PANTING HEAVILY]" _Move_ , Derek!" 

Derek doesn't need to be told twice. With his last self-control snapping like a twig, he starts rolling his hips. Stiles groans in absolute pleasure, and Derek grabs his slim hips, pulling out almost all the way, just to push back inside as deep as he can.  
The sounds Siles is making are almost unreal. Clutching at Derek's thighs, arms, everything he can grab, he drives Derek absolutely frantic.  
Every other thrust, Derek manages to hit Stiles' sweet spot, and at one point, Stiles gapes, opens his eyes wide, and cums all over his own chest, up to his throat. 

Forcing himself to give Stiles a moment to recover, Derek leans forward, licking his body clean, and pulling the shaking boy into his arms.  
Stiles starts covering him with thousand little kisses, but after a minute or two, he starts rolling his hips, sucking on Derek's throat. 

Stiles: " _Come_ on, what are you waiting for? We're not done here!" 

Derek: "I - I don't want to hurt you. I don't think I can control what I am about to do when I climax, not with you." 

Stiles: "I can take it, and I trust you." 

And he starts biting at Derek's neck, and Derek gives in. Staying deep, he drives himself over and over into Stiles' willing body, pushing his cock as far into him as he can, and when Stiles locks his legs around his waist, clutching to him tightly, Derek howls, eyes sparkling golden, and as teeth and fur grows, he empties himself in hot spurts until his dick starts to ache. 

For a long time, they just lie there, covered in sweat and cum, holding onto each other like on dear life. 

Stiles: "Wow. That was amazing." He sounds surprisingly calm. Derek chuckles. 

Derek:[MURMURS] "That muft be the longeft time ever you haven't fpoken." 

Stiles: "My dad says I speak in my sleep occasionally." 

Derek: [SNORTS]"Of courfe you do." 

Steady fingers are petting his fur, and Derek realizes he still got his fangs out. He startles. 

Derek: "Oh fuck! Fhit! I am fo forry!" 

He tries to get up, to turn his face away, the sudden panic withholding him from transforming back. Gentle hands tug at him. 

Stiles: "You don't have to hide what you are, not from me. [HE SMILES] You're beautiful, in every shape." 

Stiles wonders if he should tell Derek that his eyes turned from blue to gold, but that feels like a minor detail in comparison. He doesn't even know what the werewolf eye - colorcode is supposed to mean. Maybe blue is just the color of constant anger, while gold represents the inexplicable but deep fondness to hyperactive dorks.  
Derek calms down, feeling too close to hide, a painful vulnerability in his eyes. Instead of an answer, he leans into Stiles' embrace, holding him close and kissing him. 

Derek knows he should go. He should want to go. But somehow he just can't detach from the little dork. 

Derek: "Does, uhm, does your dad come home soon?" 

Stiles: "No, he's working the night shift and shouldn't be home before 8am." 

The invite doesn't have to be spoken, it's glowing in the room like a fairy, flittering and nervous.  
Derek doesn't fight, for one time in his life, he just gives in. 

Snuggled together in a mess of limbs and kisses, they fall asleep. 

When they wake up again, it's barely dawn. Only half-aware of what they're doing, Derek and Stiles kiss again, with greedy touches and hungry hands. Derek didn't even completely slip out of Stiles' body during the night, and Stiles is still tender and open, and their second time is slow and achingly sweet. 

The second time they wake up, it's half past 8 and the front door just closed with a bang. Derek jumps off the bed, pure terror in his eyes. 

Derek: "Oh shit, shit, SHIT! I am sorry Stiles, but I need to run!" 

Stiles, still puffy from sleep and barely awake, tries to grab him. With a sorrowful expression, Derek takes his hand, and places a kiss on his palm.  
Then he puts on his clothes in record time, jumps out the window, and leaves Stiles in a cold bed, confused and with an aching heart.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The schoolday was a kafkaesque nightmare.  
Aside from the excitement and constant arousal of having lost his virginity, Stiles felt guilty and ashamed for not telling Scott. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. The circumstances were weird and more than a bit embarrassing, and he needed to know where he stood with Derek before he could tell Scott.  
As sweet and mild-mannered as Scott was, he definetly would go nuclear if he'd thought Derek fucked and ducked his best bro.  
Also, his ass hurt. The dull ache distracted him the whole fricking day, made sitting horribly uncomfortable and he probably looked like he was walking on eggshells.  
And the look Danny gave him when he saw him walking down the hallway was **way** too smug and knowing! 

Breakfast with his Dad hasn't been fun exactly either. After Derek fled through the door, Stiles quickly jumped under the shower, washing away the evidence of the night before.  
He already held too many secrets from his Dad, and he never expected this to become another one. His Dad wouldn't mind him being with another guy. Derek's age might be an issue, and probably his record too, but his Dad was epically cool.  
He also gave Stiles some weird looks over breakfast, like he suspected something. 

Finally, everything that was left of this horrid day was Lacrosse training. Sitting on his usual spot on the bench, Stiles looks around. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he surely hoped to get _some_ sign of Derek, a proof that he was in there as deep as himself.  
That it mattered to him, too. 

Exhaling, he leans forward, cradling his head in his hands as the team starts with the training.  
And then he smiles. A little heart is carved into the wood, just big enough to notice, with the rough scratch of a wolf, and a 'S'.


End file.
